Visions of Scarlet
by Koukoi1412
Summary: Before the war, before world domination backfired, they knew each other simply as family. One-shot collection. Kougyoku-centric.
1. Painting

Disclaimer: Magi The Labyrinth of Magic belongs to Shinobu Ohtaka.

* * *

 **PAINTING**

Red and black are the first colors she knows, the devouring gaze of sunset and midnight's hollow ache, and the golden-bangled magi is both.

He stands before her in the withering sun, a mesh of dark hair and blood eyes peering over bamboo latticework, and she wants to weep in joy.

"Whatcha doin', Old Hag? You hiding or something?" His voice is rough as his calloused feet, careless and carefree. To Kougyoku, it's a balm to the basin of tears she's bled all day.

"Judal-chan!" she calls out in raspy wisps. "How did you find me?"

"I'm a magi, remember? Something as simple as finding a missing girl is no big deal for me. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I was just...I-I got lost."

She only wanted to paint, she tells him. But no one would teach her, so she kind-of-sort-of secretly borrowed her sister Kourin's paints. Two minutes and a toppled footstool later, a multicolored ocean of paint began to pool on the floor.

"So you ran away. But since you're new around here and happen to have no sense of direction whatsoever, you got lost."

Maybe that was an insult. A tear might have leaked from her mudstained face.

"Come on. Let's go back," he says.

"I don't want to." They'll scold her, she knows. She's tired of their hurtful words, tired of being ignored, tired of crying. Surely Judal-chan understands?

Her companion responds by hurling a peach pit into a rooster several yards away.

 _Squawk_.

It hit.

Whatever the target, Judal has never missed, not once. The unfortunate creature dashes into the surrounding bushes and is gone.

"It won't get lost, will it?"

"Nope. Even with a brain that small, it's way smarter than you are," he smirks.

She pouts.

"Hurry up! Unless you want the monsters to make you their dinner tonight?"

"Of couse not!" Forget the scolding. Being left outside all alone in the dark in a scary place full of monsters is a thousand times worse.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

He glides around on his unfurled carpet, two loops and three dizzying twirls. And just like that her fear is banished. With just the tiniest hesitation, she scrambles toward this beacon of hope and clings tight as he steers them home.

The next morning, with Ka Koubun's help, Kougyoku sets up a fresh canvas in the garden and attempts to paint. This proves to be trickier than she thought. Inspiration is scarce, and a whole day seems too short to learn the basics of fumbling with a brush.

A black streak zips toward her. It's a boy on a carpet, hovering mid-air.

"What's up, Old Hag?" he greets, with feigned casualness.

"Judal-chan! I'm painting rainbows!"

"Rainbows, huh." He leans over for a closer look. What he sees are blots and splatters, a wavy blue arc in the middle, green next to violet, and orange gone missing.

He can't stand it.

"Why are you laughing, Judal-chan? My rainbow's supposed to be happy, not funny. I even made it smile. See?"

In her clumsy eagerness, she nearly shoves it in his face. That puts an end to his laughter, finally.

When she sets down the canvas, his expression has changed. It's more...cruel.

"Didn't they teach you anything? Rainbows only know how to frown."

He sulks away. He hadn't been around for three minutes and now the place is silent once more.

Kougyoku studies the despised painting. All she wants is to draw something happy, something that feels the way she did yesterday when Judal-chan found her. But what does happiness look like?

Happiness could be flowers, but the flowers don't laugh. And rainbows don't smile...

 _He's right_ , she concludes at last. There is something very, very wrong. She folds away the used canvas and requests a blank sheet.

That afternoon, Judal drops by to spy on his favorite princess only to find a crude stick drawing of a boy surrounded by ice spears twice his size. On the lower right fringe are what appear to be monsters - or chickens - and the boy decimates them all.

Smiling.

 _Silly Old Hag...maybe I'll be nice to her next time._

"Judal-chan, I ate three of your peaches. I hope you don't mind."

 _Nah, forget it_.


	2. Portrait

Disclaimer: Magi The Labyrinth of Magic belongs to Shinobu Ohtaka.

* * *

 **PORTRAIT**

Crimson are their robes, crimson is their hair; a painter has come to blend them into a single dawning red.

"What's going on?" Kouha asks the approaching courtier. From behind him, another redhead bobs up in surprise. Kougyoku half glances up, half hides from view, careful not to let go of the silky locks in her fingers. Her brother has invited her to braid his hair for the first time, and she is very, very careful to get the pattern right.

The messenger clears his throat. "His Majesty the Emperor summons you to the palace."

"The Emperor does? Why?" the third prince inquires with an air of nonchalance.

"As you may have heard, His Majesty has commissioned a portrait of his children-" his gaze settles on Kougyoku, who takes cover behind her shorter sibling, " _All_ of them. Master Orochi has just arrived at the capital. By order of His Imperial Highness, all princes and princesses of his lineage of shall appear in the royal hall an hour hence."

With a bow, the man is gone. The maids descend upon the almost twins and whisk them away to be drowned in so many layers of soap, bath oils, and robes.

Kougyoku latches onto raspberry strands like a safe haven, suddenly scared at the thought of meeting her other siblings. But the maids pry away her fingers and drag her along, leaving the unraveling braid to dangle behind Kouha's back.

It was the first time her brother let her style his hair, and she never got to finish.

* * *

The hallway that leads to the throne room is very, very long. Too long for tiny shoes, new and stiff, that cramp her feet like everything else. Her nervous shuffling can't match the dainty rhythm that sings from her sisters' feet. Instead she stretches her legs to match Kouen's dignified stride.

She might as well have tried walking on stilts. What is graceful on him looks ungainly on her. His footsteps are too big.

Whatever she does, she is not her sisters and she she is not her brothers. They are blazing suns; she is simply a girl buried under robes that pool around her feet too much.

 _Don't trip. Don't trip. Don't trip._

Alas! Her foot catches on the hem of the fabric, sending her crashing into her sister's shoulder.

Kouhana halts to rub her offended shoulder with a hiss. Her eyes speak murder, but not a single word leaves her lips. Kougyoku knows their code. _Don't speak to the concubine's daughter._

An attendant clears his throat, urging them onward. Three pairs of guards stand guard over the golden phoenix and dragon emblems on the final pair of doors. They open, at last, for the Emperor's hard gaze to suck them into an illusion of sun. The siblings file in, with Kougyoku at the end of the line. Her feet have grown stiff, the room seems so cold, and all she wants is to trade places with the wind outside.

"Presenting crown prince Ren Kouen, second prince Ren Koumei, third prince Ren Kouha, and the seven princesses: Koutsuki, Koueri, Kounami, Kouhana, Kouka, Kourin, and Kougyoku."

"Greetings, Your Majesty the Emperor." They bow in unison. Kougyoku takes a deep, calming breath, and stops wishing Ka Koubun were here to reassure her. For now, his words will have to do.

 _Never let them see you panic. Prove to the emperor that you are a princess worthy of your title. I know you will make me proud!_

It's those words she clings to as their father's voice booms down the hall. "My brother, the late emperor, had a portrait taken of his family a year before he passed away. Now is our turn."

He returns to his seat, apparently pleased by their lack of response.

Kouha sticks his tongue out.

* * *

"Why is that girl even in the picture?"

The cruel remark cuts through the air, the culprit unnoticed behind red waves of hair and cloth. It could have been Koutsuki. Kougyoku's so-called sisters' voices are unfamiliar.

Ten siblings are in the royal gardens, seated in two rows side by side, and smiling for dear life. The artist, clothed in plum and dandelion and an unrelenting scowl, gives a nod and begins to work under mottled blue sky.

All goes well for half an hour.

Half an hour is not enough to finish a painting.

"Awwwwwww!"

A swash of crimson ripples to the left at the sound of Kourin's pained scream.

"It bit me! It bit me!" the poor girl wails, referring to a parade of red ants plaguing her skirts. The trail up her sleeves reveals stolen sweets that look suspiciously similar to Hakuei's missing sweetbread.

Everyone unfreezes. For minutes, all that can be heard are squeals and the sound of feet stomping or beating cloth.

"Your Highnesses, please!" For all his talents, the artist has lost his patience. His masterpiece in the making is in danger of being ruined, and he isn't pleased.

They settle down, but now Koueri and Kounami have switched places. Kourin's teary face is a wrinkle short of a grimace.

The stroke of brush on canvas calms them down, but not for long. Quarter of a sundial notch later, something drops on Kougyoku's sleeve. Like a raindrop...or drool...from a half-asleep Koumei.

"Ewwwww!" says Kouha, too young and too crazy to restrain himself.

Kouen knocks his brother awake.

"Both of you, behave. That is our duty," he commands, effectively cutting off their protests.

Another half hour passes without further disruptions. Until a certain magi decides to disturb the peace, sporting a yellow boa around his neck. He seems extremely distressed by the arrangement, yet too scared to get rid of his unusual ornament.

The ever-mischievous Kouha breaks into a grin, wider than she thought humanly possible. Judal glares at him, but remains frozen because the snake has decided it likes slithering down his left arm. Kouha sticks his tongue out and is promptly reprimanded by Kouen.

"Stop it. That's improper, undignified, disgraceful conduct for a prince."

The younger boy's expression sours. And the snake keeps moving, inch by scaly inch.

"Judal-chan, are you okay?"

"Why is the oracle shaking so badly?" remarks Koumei, who has given up on his midday nap.

"BECAUSE!"

The tremble of Judal's fingers is obvious now, but no one helps the poor magi. His eyes are wide with very visible, and very real terror, Kougyoku notices. Any second now...

"Thag Al-"

The tip of the serpent's head disappears into folds of cloth. Judal pales tenfold and goes completely still.

"Judal-chan..." she calls out, alarmed by the blankness overtaking his eyes.

He jerks.

Light shoots out from his wand, zapping canvas and blades of grass into nothingness.

What remains is an inch-deep crater on bare ground.

The easel is gone.

The paintbrush survived.

The artist ran away.

It takes a whole year before they decide to have a repeat of this experience, and even then they call themselves extremely lucky to succeed.

* * *

13 years later...

Red and black, three paintings hang side by side to tell the tale of the dead or the forgotten. By now, a war has come and gone, defining her life by before and after. Ruby and obsidian are the last colors she sees before the ringing in her ears takes over the battlefield, and the first to greet her when she regains consciousness, in the form of bleeding head wounds and thick smoke from funeral pyres. Death has stolen the two people dearest to her, and isn't longer before she loses everything else.

Kouha and Kouen, do any of their soldiers remember? There's Hakuei and Hakuryuu, lost to them. Then the picture of Judal, and not quite him. For Kou may span a hundred suns but could never encompass the entirety of this black-loving magi. Even now, he is a stranger.

 _Where are you now, Judal-chan? Everybody's everywhere else, and all I can do is wonder._

"Something bothers you, Your Majesty."

The owner of the voice is both familiar and a stranger. His hair has been cut short and the bulge of his muscles are a welcome improvement, but the absence of the scent of sweat on metal reminds her that he can't be Kouen.

Kougyoku sighs. "Please don't address me so formally, Koumei onii-sama."

"It's only fitting. You are the empress."

 _Only because of circumstances. Only because all of you were gone._

That brings back memories of a bitter three years of shadows gone missing. Roughened handholds of sepia doors testify to too many nights being opened to imaginary voices. If it weren't for the help of her dearest friend, she'd still be stuck in a thicket of blank space. Now only gray whispers haunt her waking hours - still echoing nevertheless.

"Alibaba-chan should have arrived in Balbadd by now," she says.

Koumei's droopy eyes flicker with regret. Whether the mention of Alibaba's name reminds him of something, or he's sorry for the enslaving policies he had implemented, she isn't sure. When he speaks, his tone is somber with experience. "That place must be very different from the country he once called home."

Her brother has gone through a lot.

From what she's heard, exile has tamed Kouha and stolen Kouen's youthful vigor. She herself has cried a hundred tears too many.

But there's a picture where everyone looks happy. Their smiles may have been stretched too wide, their eyes may have been seething with irritation towards the artist for taking way too long, but for all its flaws, it's their story, once upon a forgotten time.

They've come a long way since then. These days, Kougyoku's more than just a bubble of noise ignored by the world. And the sum of Koumei's scars is greater than the huge mark on his chest. Back then, they didn't know a tiny island nation called Sindria would be their downfall. Back then, there were no metal vessels, no civil wars that tore your family apart and left you to suffocate in the cracks. _And no crappy political marriages for the sake of international treaties._

"Your Majesty, an emissary from Reim requests your presence."

Koumei dismisses the servant with a wave of his hand. "We shall be there shortly."

"Empress? Shall we go?" With one hand, he raises his fan to hide his face a little more. With the other, he motions to the open door. He hides his anxiety well. That's something she has to work on so the next time Alibaba comes by he won't find a fountain on the floor. Maybe he can teach her sometime.

Kougyoku smiles. She's not Kouen, but he treats her with the same respect he always displayed towards his older brother. Likewise, this brother standing by her side may not be Kouen, but he's no less worthy of her adoration.

The two siblings prepare to walk out the door and into whatever awaits them outside.

Outside is a view of marigold streaking across lilac on the loom of the heavens, rising above butter-embossed hills and the cinnamon haze of her cities. But this cramped, semi-lit room holds a sight far more precious.

It's her brother Koumei, really and truly here. Not Kouen, not Kouha, but here, armed with a promise not to abandon her. In the flickering glow, in the whirlpool of shadows, his form is more solid than three years of fossilized self-loathing. With it comes the reassurance she needs to be empress yet another day.

She takes a deep breath.

 _Don't trip. Don't trip._

Her brothers' younger faces are the last thing she sees before the doors close and the brilliant scarlet of Judal is swallowed by candlelit hallways.

Life has taught her other colors. Blue forgiveness, in the form of a travelling magician boy. Violet hate for a man she calls monster, yellow hope of daisy centers - but she will always be searching the horizon for where midnight and sunrise collide.

Until then, she waits.

* * *

 **A/N: For those who may wonder, these portraits are the same ones Alibaba peruses in my other fic These Broken Roads.**


	3. Plumage

**PLUMAGE**

Fish princess, they call her. Little koi girl, in memory of the day she plunged headfirst into a pool of carp.

Kougyoku stares at the sunset shapes swishing idly over mossy stone. Beneath ripples and floating lily pads, scales shimmer like unreflecting mirrors burnished red and gold as she dribbles her fingers in the shallows. She likes the small ones best, those clustered together like a colony of cowrie shells. Round and round they go, perfectly content in their tiny world. The thing with fish is they never fly. It's this shared understanding of the sky's limits that draws her to them.

"Are you feeding the fish, My Lady?"

She bolts up at the ladylike voice. A waterfall of raven tresses and a musical smile fill her vision. It's the first princess, Hakuei, sister of Hakuryuu, oldest remaining child of the late Emperor. Her cousin, now stepsister. As if she didn't have enough half-siblings already.

The taller princess' gaze drifts to the ball of rice in Kougyoku's hand. She tucks it behind her, guiltily, for she has just been caught wasting breakfast, and if ever Ka Koubun finds out, he'll give her a scolding till her ears turn to roses.

"I was just...uh...um..." _What to say? What to say? She'll tell, she'll tell, she'll tell!_

Hakuei doesn't seem affected by her lack of decent response. "Here, let me help you," she offers, reaching for Kougyoku's hand as gently as a mother would. Or should. Kougyoku doesn't know.

She does know of Hakuei's fondness for birds. Everyday she tends to a living rainbow of parakeets that chirp the wind's secret lullabies to the inhabitants of the palace. They speak two languages, avian and human, but it's only Hakuei who seems to understands the lyrics of birdsong. It's to her they offer odes of adoration, enticed by the bright sky reflected in her eyes.

But, if Hakuei's a bird, Kougyoku's a fish. Her fins bristle at the slightest touch.

Hakuei smooths her hanfu, sits on the edge of the pool, and peers into the dark water. "Hello, little koi. You must be hungry today. Look what Princess Kougyoku brought you!" She sprinkles little bits of of food on the water's surface. A dozen hungry mouths react at once; in an instant every last piece has been gobbled up.

Hakuei charms the fish with the same grace as she does the birds. Now Kougyoku's solitary delight doesn't seem hers anymore.

She shouldn't be surprised. Her cousin has always been nearly perfect at everything. Compassionate, brave, strong as an eagle midflight, graceful as the richness of autumn's perfume. What if she could be more like Hakuei, the younger princess wonders, what if her hair mirrored the night instead, what if her distinctive strands weren't the color of koi scales?

"Look at this baby! I wonder which one is its mother," Hakuei remarks, distracting her.

Then she remembers her cousin is half an orphan, just like she is.

"Did you name them?" Hakuei asks.

"Yes, I have." It's the first time Kougyoku speaks during the entire conversation.

Hakuei listens patiently as her cousin lists names one by one, some based on colors, some on flowers, and still others decided in whatever fit of imagination she had at the moment. The exchange of words rambles on, eventually digressing into a discussion on the Kou brother's pets.

Kouha has a fierce-looking iguana he caught foraying among broken crockery in the wee hours of one morning. He hasn't killed it yet. He claims he's waiting for it to strike first.

Kouen tried falconry, and succeeded. At first he would carry it everywhere, striking fear among the court-goers. All except the bravest generals kept their distance. Thankfully, someone found the heart to admonish him. _No, you don't bring birds of prey into the library. No don't expect us to act unafraid._

Somewhere along, Koumei squeezes his bony figure into their midst with a pigeon perched on the nest of reddish mahogany atop his head.

There could be bird droppings on his skull. Or eggs. It's too messy to tell. Kougyoku hopes for neither.

Hakuei is the first to react. "What a cute bird!"

"Hato."

The two princesses share a blink.

Yes, pigeon. They already know that. Young scholar eyes, feathers the color of swords, and a crest that stands out as much as Koumei's unkempt mane - features unmistakably pigeon.

"Hato," he repeats, confusing them.

"Pardon?"

"That's its name."

"Hato?" How queer. What person names his pigeon "Pigeon"?

"Hello there, Hato-chan!" greets Hakuei.

The feathered creature begins to coo, obviously pleased by the gentleness in her voice.

"Wanna say hi to Koumei-dono's bird?" the coal-haired princess suggests.

Kougyoku blinks at the bird. The bird blinks back.

"Hello, Hato."

Hakuei tries to coax it down, but the pigeon merely flaps its wings to fan dust at her, stubbornly refusing to leave its perch.

"Aw...it likes you, Koumei-dono!" exclaims Hakuei, and the smile in her voice is beautiful.

Koumei says nothing, but his cheeks appear to be pasted with apple skins. His face wasn't half as red earlier. Maybe it's the effect of the sun. But under cloud cover as gray as the pigeon's eyes? Not likely.

For now it seems her brother's unexplained reaction is another puzzle she'd best leave to Ka Koubun.

"It's a mysterious disorder," her trusted attendant explains.

"A disorder?"

"Yes. And a very common one. Some refer to it as the disease that makes men blind. Not to worry, however. The symptoms at their worst are often temporary. Your brother is in no grave danger, I assure you."

"What's it called?"

Ka Koubun stares at the ceiling quite awhile, as if he's not familiar with this sickness or its effects defy explanation. "Falling," he says at last.

"Falling?" The familiar words turn a bitter taste in her tongue. For a dreadful malady, it sounds so terrifyingly possible. "Like when I fell in with the fish last month? Is that how you catch this sickness? Is it contagious? Will I get sick, too?"

"You won't! I assure you, Princess, I shall do everything within my power to keep you in perfect health, safe from the clutches of this horrible, horrible disease!"

The next day Kougyoku passes by Koumei and Hakuei feeding pigeons. Curiosity carries her feet towards the scene.

"Princess Kougyoku! Care to join us?"

Hakuei's smile is too inviting to resist. "I'll help!"

Kougyoku slides onto a bench and helps tear the slice of loaf into crumbs. Her elder siblings chat away this time, and Koumei sits up straighter and looks more lively than she's ever seen him. Kougyoku is mostly silent save for the occasional "yes" or "no" or an over-eager nod of her head. For the span of an afternoon, amid rapid wingbeats and the incessant hovering around of dragonflies, they have found peace.

They're a strange bunch, people think. (They never say it out loud, but eyes speak louder than words.) A brother who wears acne signposts on his face, who can't think of a proper name for a pet bird, who buries himself in scrolls as indecipherable as the belly of the sea. A sister delicate and sturdy as the wind, who sings in all the colors of a colorless breeze, who loves sparrows and cockatoos and talks to everything with feathers. And she, a girl who watches fish and watches water and watches the dark.

They grow up, of course. The cycles of shadow on sundial make them a little more respected, a little less strange. And infinitely more powerful. When they come back from the dungeons with scales, wings, and talons of their own, the mystified stares of the past are finally replaced by the stunned applause of the present.

Not a single jest is heard.


	4. Hollow

Disclaimer: Magi The Labyrinth of Magic is the property of Shinobu Ohtaka.

* * *

 **HOLLOW**

In the first two years of their acquaintance, there are two things Kougyoku learns about Judal. One, he is a master craftsman of anything and everything ice-related. Two, his heart is an steel cavern lined with deathtraps.

She discovers this one morning, when her sojourn to the orchard reveals a dozen miniature ice sculptures beside one of the peach trees. Neatly arrayed by order of height are two cats, three ducklings, six lizards, and one pigeon, all stiff with the stillness of premature death.

Koumei is not pleased. A furrowed brow accompanies his sour mood, which only highlights the dark marks sprinkled on his face.

"It's the middle of summer, I haven't seen a single snowflake all month and yet they're frozen," Kouen says, declining to comment on what, or _who_ he deems responsible.

"How beautiful," says Kouha. "Don't you agree? Everything is truly beautiful when dead!"

Kougyoku fails to see beauty in murdering animals, even for art's sake (which, she suspects, isn't even the culprit's intention). It's creepy, now those ducklings' eternally dead eyes will join the monsters that make up the dark.

Kougyoku makes another horrifying discovery. Her beloved koi pools are coated with a thin layer of frost.

That's does it.

"Judal-chaaaaaan!"

A snicker is heard from the patio. She knows that sound.

"Judal-chan!"

"Why so flustered, Old Hag? Don't you like my little surprise?" he smirks, unapologetic as ever.

"It's terrible! Please unfreeze the garden pond! Hurry! Hey, Judal-chan, can't you hear me?"

He scrunches his nose, seemingly disconcerted by her lack of appreciation.

"Nope. Don't wanna."

"Please! I'll do anything!"

His haughty look turns mischievous. Kougyoku wishes she bit her tongue earlier.

"Any-thing?"

Kougyoku nibbles on her lip. _What to do, what to do?_ The rule of thumb when dealing with Judal: He won't lend a hand unless he gets something in return.

"I promise! Just please melt the ice now!"

"Tsch! You're too soft. A teeny weeny bit of frost won't kill 'em!"

"Don't you pity those poor little things?"

 _Wrong question_ , his eyes communicate. Sympathy is as foreign to his tongue as camels on ice. He does, however, comply with her demands. Not a minute elapses before the ice evaporates in a shower of colors. The fish, thankfully, are unharmed.

"Now," he says, grin firmly in place. "Let's have some fun!"

Kougyoku shivers. Whatever he means, she won't like it.

"Fun?"

"Yeah. You'll be target practice for the day."

"Wha-aat?"

He leans in to pat her head. Then he whispers, furtive as the junction of moon and ocean. "Now, run."

She runs.

"Faster!" he commands, laughing. "If you get skewered, it ain't my fault!"

He raises his wand. Instantly a fence of ice spears chase after her. She pumps her feet forward, forward, some more, ducking and looping through the trees and heart-stoppingly frightened for her life.

"Too slow! Come on, you can do better than that! I'm getting really bored over here."

She curses her robes for snagging on almost every trunk they brush by. She's sweating profusely under the heat but the army of icicles doesn't stop.

This is Judal's version of fun. It's tag with the risk of being impaled by a pointed rod of ice twice your size travelling at the speed of a gazelle. He won't let them hit her, she knows, but knowing and believing are two different things. Just when her lungs start to constrict and her muscles burn and she's on the verge of begging for mercy-

"Hey! Let me join!"

It's Kouha onii-sama with his giant knife. Now she gets to choose between getting stabbed or butchered.

 _Why oh why do I get roped into these kinds of games instead of playing tea party with my sisters?_

Judal floats down and puts away his wand for later. Now that Kouha's around, he isn't as eager to bully the little sister. Kougyoku slinks to the ground in relief.

"Judal-chan," she gasps, "how do you make icicles that huge?" Beside her stands an ice spear as tall as three Kouens stacked on each other, slanted diagonally from where the magi drove it into the damp soil.

"Ever been in a cave before?" Judal asks her.

"I have," Kouha pipes up. "Climbed those enormous pillars and hung from the ceiling like a bat." Kouha hoists himself onto a five foot square block of ice (Where did that come from? Don't tell me he was going to bash my head with that!), chops off a corner, and plunks the chip in his cocktail of ants in fruit juice.

Judal ignores him the way one would avoid a garden slug. He turns to Kougyoku, who is still winded from their little race.

"Those places are hollow. The more hollow the cave, the longer the cones clinging to the roof. It's the same here," he tells Kougyoku, pointing to his chest.

She tilts her head, unable to follow his explanation.

"You see, there's a big empty space in the center where all these ice spears are formed. They stay here until I release them, just like a personal weaponry."

"But...isn't that where your heart is?"

"My heart isn't useless mush like yours!" he snarls. "It's hard as the strongest metal you could think of, 'cause I'm the greatest magi in the world!"

To create the deadliest ice, one must have the hollowest heart, she decides, until she turns eighteen and fires round upon round of ice spears on a monster for inflicting harm on her brother and friend. In that moment, hollow is the farthest thing from her mind as her heart is just so full it spills over.


	5. Adrift

Her mother is a red silhouette in the night, lost to the water. There are pale hands and wavy hair in her dreams, and the sound of breakers. She remembers one phrase, " _I never wished for this,"_ and a sorrowful look in a star-eclipsed face.

That face disappeared the next morning.

The waves swallowed her.

Her mother was never theirs, never hers to begin with. The red-stained lady belonged to no one except the emperor, whom she fled from, and the sea, who took her in.

Kougyoku is a girl who knows the ocean's cruelty.

* * *

She favors the guzheng because it does not lie. It shrills and it trills and it twangs and it clangs, and it never hides. Clumsy princess fingers bleed over it in the hope that one day the noise will become music.

Tucked deep inside the palace is a beautiful guqin, plucked with deceitful hands. Lovely, lying, empress hands. From her chambers waft the moontears and the sunsongs; starflowers bounce on the seven slender tightropes of the instrument of sages.

"What sound is that?" she had asked, the very first time the shafts of qin song reached her ear.

"That is-" it was Kouen who told her, secretly (the first and only secret he ever shared with her), "—the most frightening music you will ever hear." Kougyoku peeks into his eyes and sees illegible frost script emblazoned on his irises. He does not wait until the qin stops playing before turning away.

When she looks back on that moment, she remembers someone whispering, " _Run!"_ and an instinctive fear for what lay behind those impervious paper screens.

She plays well now, music now, to the beat of abandoned leaves fluttering down opaque glass.

She chooses the guzheng because she is not the empress.

* * *

There's a bouquet of pai sho tiles and peaches and pigeon feed in her arms, entrusted to her care by none other than the third prince of the empire, Ren Kouha, who would much rather carry a smelly crocodile pelt _with a baby crocodile concealed inside_ than the assortment of miscellaneous tokens to be delivered to their recipients. The youngest princess trudges along as her almost-twin visits his two older brothers and the magi, careful not to let any of the offerings slip from her tiny hands. It occurs to her that she is the only one among the emperor's daughters granted the privilege of witnessing a squirming reptile execute five consecutive moves of pai sho.

* * *

"You'll make a fine queen someday," Ka Koubun says.

Kouha overhears, grins, and lets loose a jar of grasshoppers in her room.

* * *

"Stop laughing!" Ka Koubun can't resist a glare at the not-so-little girl whose cheeks are red from watching the maids try to scoop up all the jumping, flying things with absolute disrespect for royalty.

She giggles even harder, any thought of queens and court ladies and duties to the empire banished from her mind, for Kougyoku is, after all, simply a child who watches the world with two, wide, fire-besotted eyes.


End file.
